


Love and Milkshake

by Blizzard_Fire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Milkshakes, POV Clint Barton, Pre-Slash, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzard_Fire/pseuds/Blizzard_Fire
Summary: Clint creeps into the kitchen at 4am and nearly craps his pants when Bruce looks up from the dining table. Even so, he lowers into a battle stance and grabs a banana from the fruit bowl before he realises it’s a false alarm. ‘Holy shit Doc, what are you doing up?'Bruce shrugs one shoulder before returning his attention to his laptop. ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he offers. ‘Battle days are tough.'Clint looks down at the banana in his hand. ‘You want a milkshake? Guaranteed to put you to sleep. Or into a sugar-induced coma. Whatever you wanna call it.’A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. ‘Sure.’When Clint wanders the tower at 4am, Bruce is always there. The two enjoy their late-night bonding, but Clint is becoming concerned that Bruce never seems to sleep...
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Clint Barton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	Love and Milkshake

**Author's Note:**

> The UK's having a huge heatwave currently so I wrote this whilst sticking to the sofa to take my mind off things lol. Gotta love these boys <3

Clint never goes to sleep before 4am.

Maybe it’s the years of night-time surveillance missions, or maybe it’s just his reluctance to sleep at a reasonable hour. When the others have gone to bed, the tower is his playground. He can make a blanket fort in the living room and watch Netflix, or play hide-and-seek with JARVIS (who always cheats and finds him on the infrared scanners). It always varies, except for the fact that Clint is always alone.

Until he isn’t.

One morning he creeps into the kitchen and nearly craps his pants when Bruce looks up from the dining table. Even so, he lowers into a battle stance and grabs a banana from the fruit bowl before he realises it’s a false alarm. ‘Holy shit Doc, what are you doing up?’

Bruce shrugs one shoulder before returning his attention to his laptop. ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he offers. ‘Battle days are tough.’ It’s true that they’re all a little jittery after the latest fight against giant robots. Bruce seems unnervingly awake, though. ‘Have you been to bed yet?’

‘Nah, I am a creature of the night.’ He looks down at the banana in his hand. ‘You want a milkshake? Guaranteed to put you to sleep. Or into a sugar-induced coma. Whatever you wanna call it.’

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. ‘Sure.’

So Clint whips up two large mugs of chocolatey banana goodness and slides one over. Bruce explains the science project he’s working on and Clint tells him about the owl he rescued from the ventilation system earlier. It’s nice to have company for once, but soon the milkshake starts working.

‘G’night, Bruce,’ he calls, yawning as he heads to bed. ‘Don’t stay up too late – or early, I guess.’

Bruce chuckles. ‘Goodnight, Clint.’ And even though dawn is breaking outside the window, he doesn’t seem tired at all.

Clint assumes it’s a one-off. So when he comes downstairs the next night and Bruce is there again, he grabs another banana and barely stops himself from hurling it at his head. ‘Shit Bruce, don’t do that!’

Bruce blinks back at him, fingers poised on his laptop keyboard. ‘I’m not doing anything?’

‘Exactly! You’re like a silent, unmoving… computer gremlin.’ With a sigh, he holds up the fruit. ‘Want one?’

Bruce nods and pushes his chair back. ‘I’ll help.’

They make their milkshakes together this time, and again Clint waves goodnight whilst Bruce continues working.

It happens again the next night. And the next. And the next.

It becomes routine for Clint to finish up his night-time wander with Bruce and milkshakes. He starts to look forward to it, in fact. But it slowly dawns on him that something might be wrong with Bruce. Especially when he comes down one morning at 10am after a sleepless night to find Bruce _still in the kitchen working._

‘So what’s your secret?’ he asks one night as they sit down with their milkshakes. ‘Sleep with one eye open at a time?’

‘I’m always up late on battle days.’ Bruce doesn’t look up from his laptop. His face looks pale and washed-out in the blue light from the screen.

‘Today’s not a battle day,’ Clint points out. ‘Neither was yesterday. Or the day before.’

He runs a hand through his hair. The sight does interesting fluttery things to Clint’s insides. ‘A Hulk-out is the equivalent of seven hours of sleep. It’s pretty handy for getting some extra work done.’

Clint frowned. ‘Doesn’t that make you tired in the morning? Gotta leave you jet-lagged. Or Hulk-lagged, I guess. And what, you’ve been doing sneaky Hulk-outs to get more work done?’

He rubs his eyes. ‘Not exactly. Mini Hulk-outs. Just a flash of green and I’m good for a couple hours.’

‘Neat. Like a shot of caffeine.’ But Bruce looks shifty. ‘How long can you do it for? Before you need to sleep?’

Bruce doesn’t meet his eyes. ‘I’ve yet to find a limit,’ he says eventually.

‘Doc.’

Bruce looks up reluctantly, but he squints at him like he can’t focus properly. ‘Hmm?’

‘Bruce?’ Clint leans in cautiously, puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘When’s the last time you slept?’

‘Um. A while. Thursday, maybe?’ He licks his lips, eyes darting nervously away.

‘Today _is_ Thursday. Which Thursday are we talking?’

Now he’s wringing his hands, lips twitching. ‘I – I don’t know. I got a few hours the other day. After movie night. That one with the sharks.’

It’s Clint’s turn to be confused. ‘I don’t even remember – fuck, _Sharknado_ night?’ He stares at him in horror. ‘Bruce… that was three weeks ago. _You haven’t slept in three weeks?’_

Bruce glares back at him, then he sighs. ‘I’m having… nightmares.’ There are deep lines under his eyes, and his whole body sags with exhaustion. ‘Bad ones. I don’t know. Maybe now Hulk’s more settled my subconscious is… readjusting.’

‘Then let it readjust. Holy shit, you cant run on Hulk caffeine forever.’ Clint prides himself on his observation skills. How could he have been so blind?

The answer: he was too busy being smitten to realise something was wrong.

Clint stands up and closes the laptop. ‘Come on, Doc.’ He takes Bruce's hand. The doctor is alarmingly unsteady as he clambers to his feet, leaning heavily against Clint. Then he looks up, and their faces are very close together.

And god, Clint wants to. He really, really does. Bruce smells like chocolate and coffee and mint shampoo and his lips glisten softly in the low light. But tonight isn’t the night for grand confessions.

Even so, he dares to press a kiss against his forehead. ‘Alright, listen up. We’re gonna go back to your apartment, I’ll make us some cocoa or something, and then you’re going to sleep. Proper sleep.’

Bruce clutches his arm as Clint half-carries him out of the kitchen. ‘Can’t,’ he mumbles. ‘It’s too quiet.’

‘Well, I’ll talk you to sleep. We both know I’m good at running my mouth. I’ll keep talking all night if you want.’ He feels Bruce stiffen in surprise. ‘Am I okay to stay over? I’ll sleep on the floor. Promise I don’t snore… much.’

Bruce laughs. ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ he says shyly.

Clint holds him close as they stumble into the elevator. ‘I think I’m ready to give the going-to-bed-on-time shtick a try, how about you?’

The doors slide shut behind them. Bruce lets out a long sigh and rests his head on Clint’s shoulder. ‘Yeah,’ he mumbles. ‘That sounds amazing.’

Clint smiles and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Tonight, they sleep. But tomorrow… maybe he’ll invite Bruce out for daytime milkshakes. As he’s learned over the past few weeks, these things tend to be more fun with two.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently the Hulk-time equalling 7 hours of sleep is part of the comics canon. No workaholic scientist should have that much power...


End file.
